Personal Jesus
by Impure Desire
Summary: Nick hates Halloween, and Greg disapproves. NickXGreg, Pre-slash, Oneshot.


**Title: **Personal Jesus

**Rating: **PG

**Pairings: **Nick/Greg

**Warnings: **M/M pre-slash, Sara divulging secrets, and Greg just being himself. :D

**Summary: **Nick hates Halloween, and Greg disapproves.

**Spoilers: **None.

**Disclaimer: **Neither CSI, it's characters, the song _Personal Jesus_, Depeche Mode, Johnny Cash, or Marilyn Manson belong to me. It is still under debate as to whether I own the mind this sprang from.

**Author's Note: **This fic was by no means inspired by the song Personal Jesus, but it still managed to wiggle it's way in here somehow. It's not a song fic, but that doesn't mean it's not a good song! Should you come across it, you should take a listen, though, if you're not a fan of Marilyn Manson, perhaps you should avoid the music video of his cover.

Also, this is my first CSI fic. Reviews would be nice. Flames will be used to heat my house once it starts to snow. Thanks in advance for lowering the heating bill.

I would like to give thanks to my beyond awesome betas, broms_lullaby and burollie over at Livejournal! You guys are amazing. :D

* * *

Nick hated Halloween. More so, he hated working with Halloween coming up. So many sick people took advantage of this day; a day where it was acceptable to go around hidden behind a mask and see gruesome, albeit fake, scenes around every turn. But this… this wasn't fake.

He wasn't even supposed to work today. The CSI was comfortably sitting at home, watching _Mythbusters_ on the Discovery Channel, when there was a resounding ringing from his cell phone. He contemplated not answering as he watched Tory drunkenly climb the wall of his makeshift room and proceeded to jump onto the bed down below. Another ring. It was Grissom's voice on the other end.

So there he stood in the back of a semi-truck-turned-haunted-house looking down on what appeared to be a young woman. The cause of death was most likely from the deep gash in her stomach. Scattered around her were props for the haunted house, and all of it covered in blood. Fake or real? That's what Nick set out to find out.

The scene was slow to process because with Halloween upon them also meant solo cases for everyone on the team, but he managed to collect all the evidence he could and made sure the semi was booted to avoid having the crime scene roll away.

Once back at the lab, Nick had to pause a few times. It turned out that most of the lab techs had dressed up for the holiday. Passing the AV lab he saw Archie wearing what appeared to be dark grey slacks with a beige, long sleeved shirt and… was that an arrowhead glinting off his left breast? Nick shook his head and continued on.

Bobby appeared to have regressed to his southern roots, complete with cowboy ensemble. Nick chuckled and tipped his non-existent hat to the man as he walked by; a gesture which was returned.

Jacqui seemed morose in her print lab seemingly having been forced into wearing the blue and gold turban Nick remembered seeing her wear once before. He stopped in to drop off a few items from his scene. "It looks like you're full of holiday spirit tonight," he grinned as he she regarded him with a glare.

"Don't even start with me. It was Greg's idea. Apparently he didn't approve that I was the only one not in costume."

"I've gotta say, I don't envy you one bit right now," Nick replied as he set some of the evidence down on her countertop. "I'm not particularly fond of Halloween myself."

She sighed and started fuming what appeared to be medical instruments that Nick brought in. "I wouldn't be so chipper right now if I were you. I'm sure you'll meet the same fate once Greg sees you."

Nick laughed off her warning but thanked her anyway. Surely Greg couldn't force him to wear a costume. He'd be finding out soon enough.

The CSI faltered upon entering the DNA lab. Greg was wearing white pants with black stripes that hugged his form and caused Nick's gaze to linger a little too long. Tucked in to those pants, if you could even call them pants, was a black shirt with cutoff sleeves that appeared to have a decaying mummy on it. That coupled with the long, wavy brunette wig and the seemingly fake tattoos the DNA analyst was sporting, and Nick couldn't help but ask. "And what are you supposed to be, a woman with bad fashion sense?"

The blond chemist looked affronted before switching on some music, playing air guitar, and thrashing about the lab wildly. When he finally stopped, he gave the older man a look that clearly stated he should know by now. "Steve Harris. You know, Iron Maiden?" Nick just shook his head, clearly not knowing what Greg was talking about. "One of these days I'll get you cultured in good music." His brows knitted together as he took in Nick's appearance. "Where's your costume?"

"Halloween's not really my thing, G," the Texan replied with nonchalance as he deposited what was left of the evidence on Greg's counter space.

This statement seemed to have offended the younger man, however. "How can you not like Halloween? You can be whoever or whatever you want! You can just let go with no obligations for one night."

"Lately I've just been seeing it as another day the crazed people of our society can use as a cover for their ill intentions." Nick shrugged and added, "Plus, I'm getting a little to old to buy into all of that."

Greg scoffed at this. "You can never be too old for Halloween. I'll show you just how great Halloween can be, you'll see."

Nick laughed and shook his head as he left the DNA lab.

* * *

As the night slowly progressed into day, it seemed to just keep getting worse for Nick. The victim was identified as 27 year old Davina Gray, mother of twin 3 year old boys, and with what Greg had told him, she had either just given birth or was pregnant at the time of death.

The sick bastard they had charged was her ex-boyfriend who also happened to be an actor employed by the company running the haunted house. He was under the delusion that he and the victim were destined to be together, and nothing would get in the way of that. Nick had to keep himself in check during the interrogation when the man had said, "I didn't mean to hurt her. Davina and I loved each other, but I wasn't going to let that bastard's child be a part of my sons' lives."

"Just because you watch the Discovery Health Channel one too many times doesn't mean you now have a license to perform surgery. Now both her and her child are dead. It wasn't this child's fault that your relationship didn't work out," Nick said through gritted teeth. They got what they needed from the guy, so he gave a signal to the arresting officer and got out of there.

Yet people still wondered why he hated Halloween? The only upside to the day was that Greg seemed to leave him alone about not having a costume. His shift had ended, and he had gotten off scot-free.

Or so he thought.

There was a loud knock on his door, and Nick groaned. Why couldn't he just sit at home and watch TV in peace for once? Grudgingly, he got up and opened the door. He wished he hadn't.

"So about this problem with Halloween you so clearly have," Greg said as he pushed past Nick and into the older man's apartment carrying what looked like bags of clothes, "let's see if we can remedy it."

"Greg…" Nick replied warningly as he turned to face the younger man, the door closing shut behind him. "_Another _costume?"

It appeared to Nick as though Greg had gone home and changed outfits after work. It was flashy, but the CSI had a feeling that it could have been worse. If he really admitted it to himself, Greg did look good wearing a slim fitting, black pin-striped suit with a solid black shirt and tie underneath it. Really good. The make-up was a little harder to wrap his head around. The younger man's pale complexion was made even paler with white Halloween make-up; eyes looked more sunken rimmed with black and framed by long, false lashes; more black in the form of various sized spots were placed strategically beneath both eyes, and his lips were colored with a deep burgundy. His normally sandy blond hair was dyed black, partially combed forward and swept to the side. Whether the color was permanent or temporary, Nick wasn't sure. Completing the look were the contacts he wore. The iris of his right eye was completely blacked out, while the iris of his left eye was white with only a thing black rim outlining it.

"Does it look alright? I misplaced my bottle of white latex paint, so I had to throw this together instead. So now it looks like you get your own personal Jesus."

Multiple questions ran through Nick's head. _He's wearing make-up? Greg owns a bottle of latex paint? What was he originally planning to dress up as? _Instead he opted for, "Johnny Cash?"

Greg sighed. "Do I look like I was going for Johnny Cash to you?" Nick had to give him that. He definitely did _not_ look like Johnny Cash, and before he could let his mind wander further, Greg continued. "No, another person that did a cover of that song. Marilyn Manson."

"Marilyn Manson," Nick repeated more so to himself. "Of course you are."

Greg decided to ignore the brawnier man and started to dig through one of the bags he had brought over. "So what are we gonna have you wear to Sara's party?"

"Sara's throwing a party?"

"Yeah, trying to get a life outside of work and all that. She invited everyone from work, though maybe she didn't invite you because she knew you hated Halloween." Greg pulled a cowboy hat out of one of the bags then promptly tossed it to the side while muttering to himself, _"too cliché."_

"Good. They're not expecting me, so I don't have to go."

"No, you're going." Another item pulled out of the bag, this time some military dog tags. Nick could've sworn he heard Greg mutter to himself, _"I do love a man in uniform,"_ but they joined the cowboy hat on the side moments later.

The CSI attempted to slow his heart rate because he was not going to let himself reflect on what he thought he may or may not have heard the other man say. Though try as he might, he couldn't stop the image of Greg in some military camouflage fatigues, and he, too, had to agree with Greg's previous utterance.

"Aha!" Nick's attention snapped back to Greg and his search for the perfect costume. He was holding up a black pinstripe fedora and matching vest. "You got a white button down shirt and nice slacks to pair these with?"

"Yeah, man, but I still don't see why—"

Greg shoved the items into the older man's arms and promptly cut him off. "You are wearing a costume even it means I have to dress you myself, and we are going to that party." With an overly bright smile, the slender man gave the other a nudge toward his bedroom. "Now go!"

Once again Nick wished he hadn't opened his door. "Yes, master," he mumbled, though not quietly enough because Greg's peals of laughter followed him down the hall and all the way to his room.

The vest was form fitting over his white button down that was tucked into black slacks, but the young chemist seemed pleased with how Nick looked in the outfit that was chosen.

"I always liked that vest, though it never fit me. Papa Olaf gave it to me a few years back when he caught me rummaging through his old clothes. Hold on." Greg dug through the bags of clothes once more coming back with a red, silk, skinny tie. "Pop your collar so I can put this on you."

Nick sighed but did as he was told. That didn't stop him from complaining. "You know, I can tie my own tie."

Greg went through the motions of tying the garment. "Yes, but _this_," the younger man held up the tie to make a point, "is not your tie, now is it? It's mine."

"You know what I mean, Greg," the older man replied with a pointed look.

"I do, but it's a moot point because I'm already done." As if to prove his point, he pushed the knot up to tighten it. "Alright, lookin' good. Now let's go."

"But it's still only ten in the morning." Nick was fishing now.

"When do you expect someone who works the graveyard shift to have a Halloween party? Stop making excuses." Greg gave him a final nudge toward the front door.

* * *

They pulled up to Sara's place in Greg's Jetta. He had insisted on driving, saying that Nick would only come up with more excuse not to go.

Inside, dark, warm colors spread throughout the place, and music played just low enough for people to talk over. Sara's apartment was already filled up with people from the crime lab, but she had managed to spot them as they entered. "Hey Greg, where's your costume?"

"I'll just take that as a complement that I look this good all the time, so thank you, Sara."

She rolled her eyes and decided to ignore his comment then turned to Nick. "And what are you supposed to be, Nick? A stereotypical newspaper journalist?"

"He's a mobster," the lab tech replied before Nick could even open his mouth. "Geez, for CSI's you guys suck at figuring out Halloween costumes. If I hadn't seen you in action solving some of the toughest crimes myself, I would think it never happened." Greg gestured to Sara's outfit. "And what about you? A cop? C'mon, Sara, you couldn't think of anything _more_ unoriginal than that?"

She feigned hurt at the comment about her costume, bringing a hand up and dramatically clutching her chest. "I didn't know you were Nick now. Did you guys switch places or something?" Sara paused and pointed at Nick. "Does this mean you're gay now?"

"Sara," Greg admonished in a not-so-hushed whisper, "I told you that in confidence!"

"Oh c'mon, Greg. It's not like everyone doesn't already know or at least suspect it." She glanced at Nick who still hadn't said anything, and it didn't look like he was going to anytime soon. "Oh… I'm just gonna go," she turned and scanned the room and pointed at the far end, "over there with Warrick and Catherine. Yeah. See ya, guys!"

Greg sighed and muttered something like, "I'm gonna go find Jacqui or Archie… or anyone else," and wandered deeper into the apartment.

Nick was too dumbstruck to say or do anything, so he just watched the other man go. When he did finally come to his senses, he looked around the room for him. Nowhere in sight, but he did catch a glimpse of Sara, Warrick, and Catherine still over at the far end of the room and glancing his way. The Texan made his way over to the small group. He heard Sara say, "I'll go find Greg and apologize," then she was gone.

Warrick, donned in his football player costume, was the first to regard Nick. "What's up, man? I heard you just found out about Sanders."

"Uh, yeah, I take it you already knew?"

"In hindsight, don't you think it was kinda obvious?" That was Catherine this time. She was wearing a black PVC catsuit complete with mask, and if Nick were to look, he was sure he'd would find she also had a tail.

"Catwoman, Catherine?"

"Never mind my costume, Nick. We were talking about Greg." The look she gave him clearly stated, _'and don't you dare bring it up again.'_

"Right, Greg." Nick rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture he tended to make when he was nervous. "You know, honestly, I didn't let myself think about it. Why didn't anyone else bring it up beforehand?"

"Why wouldn't you let your self think about it, Nick? Got a little thing for Greg over there?" Catherine nodded her head in the direction behind Nick, and when he looked, he saw Greg now standing in the kitchen talking to Sara and Archie. Sara must've apologized because he didn't seem upset with her. In fact, he was smiling brightly and waving his hands around wildly while talking to them.

"Have a thing for Greg? No," he attempted to lie. He realized he was still staring, and when he turned back Catherine had a knowing smirk gracing her features.

"Really? You could've fooled me."

Warrick interjected here, saving Nick from having to explain himself. "Hey, man, it's cool if you do. No one's gonna mind, but if you really don't, just don't treat Sanders any differently. I've just gotten used to his quirkiness. I don't wanna have him suddenly flip a switch on me."

"What're you talking about, 'Rick?"

This time Warrick glanced over Nick's shoulder, most likely at Greg, then back to Nick. "You didn't hear if from me, but that kid has been crushin' on you since day one. I think he'd be hurt if you treated him differently now just because you found out he was gay. He's still the same person."

Nick chanced a glance back at Greg again. This time the younger man happened to look back at him, but his smile faltered when he noticed Nick.

"Nicky," Catherine was standing beside him now, one hand on his shoulder, "go talk to him."

Then his feet were moving even though he didn't tell them too. Greg seemed to notice this and excused himself from the conversation. If Nick hadn't been so focused on Greg, he would've seen Sara smiling at him.

"Hey." Greg attempted a smile that still looked forced.

"Hey, can I talk to you?" Nick subconsciously rubbed the back of his neck again, sure that everyone in the room could hear his heart pounding.

The slighter man nodded. "Sure, we can go out back. One of the perks Sara gets for living on the ground floor. It's small. Well, not too small. It's decent sized." He shrugged and pointed to a door off to the side. "Anyway, it's nice."

Nick nodded and followed the other man outside. He hoped Greg's nervous ramblings meant that he wouldn't be able to tell how nervous Nick was as well. He was glad they were at least alone now so that they could talk in private. "About what Sara said…"

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't think Sara would tell anyone—"

"Greg, why didn't _you _tell me? Why did you feel like you needed to keep it a secret?"

"I don't know," the DNA analyst replied with a shrug. "I like being friends with you. I guess I didn't want things to get weird."

The CSI sighed and leaned with his arms on top of the chain link fence. "I'm not gonna lie, G. It's a little weird, but really, I think I'm more shocked with how I found out. Apparently, I'm the only one that didn't know."

"I'm not sure if Grissom knows yet," Greg tried helpfully.

Nick gave a small laugh at that. "Grissom has no problem observing the evidence, but when it comes to his team, he's oblivious." There was a comfortable atmosphere starting to settle in around them. "I don't know how you do it, man."

Greg joined Nick also leaning on the fence. "Do what?"

"I don't know. You seem so comfortable and happy with your life. How do you keep that up with such a big secret?"

The young man shrugged. "Well, it's not that big of a secret. My family's known since I was a teen. I didn't tell anyone at work other than Sara. She only got it out of me because I had been pretty inebriated, but well, I guess I didn't really hide it well either if everyone else knowing is anything to go by."

"I wish I could do that. Be open and live happy, I mean."

"You should. Secrets are so draining to keep. You have to remember what lies you tell to keep them rather than just telling the truth."

The older man nodded. "You're right, but after keeping things bottled up for so long, I don't know how to tell anyone anymore."

"Should I go grab Sara? She seems to be really good at it." Greg nudged Nick's shoulder playfully to let the older man know he was only joking, which earned him a soft chuckle from the man. "But really, it's refreshing when you don't feel like you have to hide anymore. I know this may sound really cliché, but it really is like a weight is lifted from your shoulders."

Nick sat in silence for a bit. If there's was anyone he should be able to talk to now, it would be Greg, right? It was worth a shot. "Hey man, I'm sorry that Sara called you out like that."

Greg shrugged. "I was scared at first because I trusted her, and I didn't know how everyone was going to react. Now that things have settled down, it seems everything is all right. Unless…"

"We're still good, G." He gave the younger man what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "I kinda know what you mean, though. For a few seconds I really thought she was talking about me. I was terrified as all hell."

"Why would you have any reason to be scared?"

"Because she was right." Nick could feel Greg's eye's on him, but he couldn't look at the other man just yet. Instead, he continued to stare straight ahead and plowed on. "I froze and didn't know what to say. I wasn't sure how she had found out since I made it a point not to tell anyone. I thought maybe I was just so transparent, and everyone knew. The next thing I know you were admonishing Sara, and I realized that no one knew." The Texan laughed and shook his head. "I thought I would feel relived that she wasn't talking about me."

"But you didn't." It wasn't a question.

"No, I didn't," Nick chanced a glance at Greg this time, "but I do now."

The willowy chemist was smiling. "It feels good doesn't it?"

"Yeah, thanks, Greggo." Nick stood and yawned. "Mind dropping me back at my place? I gotta get some shut-eye before work tonight."

"Yeah, no problem." Greg also stood and started to make his way back into Sara's apartment.

Nick stopped the other man by placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hey Greg?"

The aforementioned turned again. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Someone inside said something to me inside earlier." There he was rubbing the back of his neck again. This time Nick noticed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Oh?" Greg looked nervous again, too.

"Yeah, I was kinda wondering if it was true. They said that you were 'crushin' on me from day one.' Their words, not mine," he added quickly. The silence that followed worried Nick. "Hey Greg?"

"Yeah?"

Nick freed one of his hands from his pocket to reach out and take a hold of Greg's, entwining their fingers together. "It's okay."

Greg's smile was infectious, and Nick didn't care that people were staring as they walked back through the apartment.

The drive back to Nick's place was fairly quiet except for the music playing over Greg's car radio. When they pulled up, the silence was palpable once again.

"You're stuff's still inside," Nick stated, unsure of what to say.

There was a soft chuckle from the driver's seat. "Yeah, maybe I should go up and grab it."

Nick nodded then proceeded to get out of the car and head upstairs, Greg following close behind. Once inside, Greg made no move to gather his belongings.

"Greg…" the brawny man paused, unsure of what to do next. He opted for telling Greg this. "Greg, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. This," Nick made a gesture between them, "is still all pretty new to me."

The chemist boldly took the few steps to close the gap between them. "C'mon, Nick, just reach out and touch faith," Greg whispered, fiddling with Nick's tie.

"I always thought they were saying, 'reach out and touch me,'" was Nick's murmured reply.

Greg smoothed down the tie and grinned. "Hmm.. Yeah, that too."

Surprisingly, it was Nick who initiated the kiss, and it wasn't sweet and chaste like one usually saw in the movies. No, this was deep and passionate, and Nick was glad he could finally shed this secret.

"I think I can learn to like Halloween," Nick replied breathlessly before starting anew.

* * *

**Author's Note: **If you are a fan of Marilyn Manson and have seen his music video for _Personal Jesus_, I do realize he has multiple outfits. I can't have Greg dress up in all of them. Also, I know that he's got jewels/rhinestones under his eyes, not just black spots. Greg threw the outfit together last minute, and I don't expect him to have rhinestones just lying about. Well, it _is_ Greg...

I also took it upon myself to draw mobster!Nick and colored it in Photoshop. I don't have a scanner, so my camera quality will have to do for now. You can see it at http:/i9 (dot) photobucket (dot) com/albums/a93/broken_temptation/graphics/Mobster Nick (dot) jpg


End file.
